Moonlit Lotus
by Thiaf
Summary: Ookanehira recites a poem for Juzumaru.


**Moonlit Lotus**

"Oh, Ookanehira." Kasen stepped into his room. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

Ookanehira slammed the book shut. He shoved it back onto the shelf, palms sweating. "N-nothing! I was browsing."

"You were reading love verses." Kasen recognized all the spines and covers of his collection. "Have you developed an interest in poetry? I'm hosting a tanka workshop during the Tsukimi; would you like to-"

"I was cleaning the shelves." Ookanehira picked up his feather duster and waved it up and down. Clumps of dust fluttered about. His dedication to completing his tasks always shone through! "Don't you have chores to do?"

"You're correct, Ookanehira." Kasen covered his smile with his hand; it would be inelegant to laugh at the tachi. "Pardon me, I shall depart and complete my duties."

Ookanehira waited a whole minute until he was sure Kasen and everyone else wasn't near this room. Then, he turned back to the bookcase and picked the book back up. He flipped through the pages, but couldn't relocate where he left off before Kasen interrupted his reading.

The verse he read was about a blue river covered in red leaves. A small cluster of words created such vivid imagery. The annotations mentioned that the poet had eloped with his lover, only to be caught and denied relations with her forever, as she was wed to the emperor. The poem was possibly a message of undying love.

If Ookanehira was in the poet's situation, he'd defeat all his opponents. He slayed hundreds of revisionists without any worry. He'd _never_ let anyone get between him and Juzumaru! Still, this poet had to live with feelings that could never be returned. Ookanehira didn't know how one lived under such powerlessness, but most humans had to accept that lot in life.

What was he going to do now? Ookanehira had to prepare something for Juzumaru and the Tsukimi. The death poems of warriors appealed to him, but they were inappropriate; he needed something gentler. The thought of Juzumaru being disappointed in Ookanehira was too much. Surely, the creative minds of writers a thousand years ago could assist him! They had to be considered immortal for a reason! He read through the book again, starting from the beginning.

Juzumaru sat on the engawa. This autumn night was cool and the breeze brushed his hair and the susuki grass in a vase. The full moon was bright and reflected off the nearby pond. Red leaves glided atop the water's surface, clouding the moon's reflection. Then, the wind guided the leaves onward to their journey.

In a nearby room, other swords recited poetry, original and classic. Juzumaru thanked the Buddha for gifting him this serene night.

Ookanehira, holding a tray with a pair of cups and white dango, walked towards the other tachi.

"Good evening, Ookanehira-dono." Juzumaru turned towards him and smiled. "The moon is beautiful, isn't it?"

Ookanehira stopped in his tracks. That phrase was uttered in movies and whispered amongst some of the other swords. Did he really just use that phrase, hinting at his feelings for Ookanehira? He straightened his posture; he had to maintain his composure and not collapse under his partner's words.

"I-I have some water and food." Ookanehira sat beside Juzumaru.

"I'm thankful for your thoughtfulness." Juzumaru picked up a cup and drank.

How Ookanehira wished he could be a cup and feel Juzumaru's lips on him. The redhead diverted his gaze as his heart raced. Why was his mind wandering like this?

"May I ask why you're not participating in the workshop? Kasen-dono saw you reading poetry earlier today."

_Damn him!_ Ookanehira had no choice but to give an explanation. "I was on cleaning duty and noticed the books on the shelves. I skimmed through one."

"Was there any one that you liked?"

"Well..." Ookanehira would be honest. "There was one that stood out. I can recite it."

Juzumaru sipped his drink. The hot water was perfect for this cool night. He had waited, hoped that Ookanehira was going to do something for them tonight.

Ookanehira inhaled, trying to calm his nerves; he had to focus like he was in the dojo.

_"Even the almighty gods of old never knew such beauty:_

_on the river Tatsuta in autumn sunlight a brocade—_

_reds flowing above blue water below."_

"Thank you for reciting from the _Ogura Hyakunin Isshu_. It's a timely piece."

It was? The moonlight reflected off the ground and pond, beaming light on the shoji and engawa. The first time they met, the sun made Juzumaru glow. Now, this lunar light illuminated the pale parts of his hair. If he wore one of Ookanehira's gifted hair decorations, the flower pins would have glittered. They were surrounded by fallen leaves in shades of red, orange, and brown. The moonlight coloured the leaves, grass, and trees in shades that they didn't have in the daylight.

If the lotuses were still here, they'd be washed in moonlight too; they'd be gorgeous in pale pink and purple. Next year, they could go out again and see how the citadel changed at night.

Juzumaru placed his hand on the engawa. His arm cast a shadow between them.

Ookanehira's heart had throbbed against his chest as he recited that poem. Now, Juzumaru's slim fingers inched ever closer to him. Ookanehira didn't dare to ask what was going on. Though, in times like these, when Juzumaru might be cold, Ookanehira responded with giving warmth. He set his hand down on the wood and stiffened when Juzumaru's gloved hand covered his. They both felt Ookanehira's heart racing and fingers involuntarily twitching.

"Poetry is a thing of beauty." Juzumaru leaned forward. His hair cascaded over his shoulders. Ookanehira wanted to comb those tresses into place later. He was still as Juzumaru left a light kiss on his cheek. The touch was soft and brief. His lips were warm from his drink. Juzumaru straightened and returned to an upright position.

All Ookanehira did was stare at his partner. Did he deserve such affection? Where were they going to go from here? He thought that kind of contact was a level beyond the stage of their relationship. He was content enough with making origami, baking, and going to the front lines or on expeditions with Juzumaru. Now, Ookanehira was going to read numerous books, hoping to be rewarded with more kisses. He was going to be the best poetry reciter in the citadel!

Juzumaru tucked his hair behind his ear. His face was tinted in redness. His fingertips touched the tray with the Tsukimi dango. "Would you like to eat these with me? Please enjoy this moon viewing with me."

"S-sure." Ookanehira didn't care for the moon's beauty. Mikazuki was associated with it and Ookanehira didn't want anything to do with that Tenka Goken. He'd rather take a stroll and look at the flowers and vegetables he raised in the gardens. However, since Juzumaru wanted him here, he'd stay with him.

Autumn blessed them with a colourful night and they had to enjoy the view before winter took it away.

* * *

Tsukimi, AKA "moon viewing". Poetry is sometimes recited or written during these festivities.

I've been enjoying Chihayafuru and I've included one of the poem in this fic.

The poem is #17 by Ariwara no Narihira. It appears in the _Ogura Hyakunin Isshu_.


End file.
